Worthless Sanity
by StoryOfSurvival
Summary: Kenna swore she witnessed a wolf-man tear her friends apart, but she is put into a mental institute and forced to believe that it was impossible, and she herself murdered them. After four years of no evidence showing up, she's released back into Beacon Hills. She never imagined to find out she was never actually insane. [Stiles/OC] *Post 3A*
1. 1 Release

**A/N: All I own is my OC**

**I'm not really sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I'm super excited, but then it's just meh**

**But thanks for reading!**

The cold metallic rings wrapped around my marked wrists were colder than usual today; more noticed by myself, at least. The little chat cast among the abnormally fragile-looking men behind me was heightened in volume today; everything I heard the day before had suddenly went from a slight whisper to a decent sound. It's as if during my time at 's Institute I'd gone partially deaf and I was now finally getting my hearing back. It's funny that if I spoke my thoughts aloud, I'd be pulled back down the hall of infinity. Although they promised I was no longer in need of professional help, they still feel the need to use chains to guide me out of the fiery blaze of hell. This moment is the first time having cuffs closed around my confusingly small wrists actually brought annoyance to my usual ignorant expression; and to be honest, I prefer to be annoyed than unaware.

As my all but wonderful guards near the door of the institute, they stop for a moment, look at each other and sigh, "What else did you expect? When a murderer gets released, people hear," the one on the left of me almost proudly says, as if I was not even alive, "we're just gonna have to let them take care of her from here." He finished with a sigh. As I look through the dirty glass of the door, flashing cameras and news reporters fill the parking lot, all probably waiting for the release of their least favourite mass murderer.

"Key?" The voice of a woman sounds behind me but I don't bother turning round. Eventually, the two men's footsteps echo into the distance and my mother appears in front of me, a warm smile across her face, meant as an effort to make me feel any better. As much as I want to, I just can't smile back. "This is ridiculous," She shakes her head as she unlocks my handcuffs, "All this fuss for the long-awaited return of an innocent girl." Once she finishes, she tosses the cuffs onto the couch in the waiting area. "Are you ready?"

Taking a deep breath, I look outside once more and shrug, "It wouldn't be normal if I was." A look of sympathy replaces my mother's fake cheerful look. She puts her hand on my shoulder and guides me out the door.

As if everyone their knew exactly when that door would fly open, a crowd of both angry and curious people circled around me and my mother, blocking any way of easily slipping through. Questions were dropped like bombs all over the place, making it extremely difficult to hear any of them, not that I'd answer or respond if I did.

The swarm of angry citizens and curious reporters followed me and my mom all the way to her car, eventually looking defeated as we drove off. After four years in a mental facility, I didn't exactly know what to expect upon my arrival. I'm not saying I was exactly looking forward to smiles and tea parties, but since I was never actually found guilty – or innocent – I at least hoped the people of Beacon Hills would just let me have this day to myself.

During my time in the hospital of doom, I of course forgot how long the car ride from there to my house was, but after fifteen minutes passed with roads and turns I had no recollection of, I knew I'd be stuck in this bubble of tension for some time.

I don't really feel awkward. I thought I would; I just don't. Not having to talk when you're not the only person there is actually kind of a relief.

But obviously there are some words to be exchanged.

"Kelly told me you were getting out last month. I had enough time to fill out the papers to get you back into school," My mom's eyes remained on the road of she spoke, her voice telling me the statement meant nothing to her.

"What?" I finally build up the courage to look at her for longer than three seconds.

She shrugs, "Yeah, I figured you'd wanna get things back to normal as quickly as possible."

"Mom you don't get it I – I can't!" I really wish it could be as easy as breaking a pencil led for me to continue my life as if I hadn't spent the last four years in a mental case institute after being blamed for the murders of five of my friends, but it just feels too ominous to do something like that. The whole idea of even stopping the car in front of the house I hadn't seen in this length of time was more stressful than relieving, despite my mother's thoughts that I feel better than ever to be returning.

My mom sighs, her eyes still keeping contact with the view through the windscreen, "Kenna, I know how you feel about going back but I promise you'll be fine."

"Have you ever met a teenager? Stuff like being blamed for the shredding of five people and telling everyone you saw a wolf shift into a man doesn't just go away when the metal chains do." I sit back and release a breath I'd held in to say that sentence, "I'll never be treated the same again…"

The car pulls to a halt and my mom looks at me for the first time during the ride. I look out to see a tall pillar with two pumps stuck into in, one with diesel written in block letters and the other with petrol.

"We'll take more once we get home, okay?" She gives me a warm smile and gets out of the car, leaving me to fight with air.

I sigh and look around me. The station was pretty much vacant, excluding me and my mom and this other black hummer with tinted windows. Definitely suspicious to see a car like that just stuck there. Since there wasn't much else to look at, my eyes stay focused on the car, just hoping that someone would step in or out, but no one did. I suppose you could say that over the years I became much more aware and alert of the things around me. As my mom puts the diesel pump back into its socket and walks into the small store to pay, I look straight ahead at the trees in the Beacon Hills preserve, imagining what may be lurking between them. I knew it was truly insane to say that a werewolf tore up my friends so gruesomely and sociopathically that when the parents came in, they could only tell who their children were by the shade of a few hairs and eye colour. The families of the people I'm still believed to have killed will be the hardest to face. They blame me for the death of their children, siblings. People I've known for years gave in to the belief that I had the mind of a cold blooded murderer.

The sound of the car door opening makes me jump and my mom sits back in her driver's seat, starting up the car, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I lie. Of course I had to lie. It was way too hard to tell the truth sometimes, especially when you're not exactly sure just how you feel. I know I don't feel okay. There isn't really a word I can think of to describe how I feel, but the closest would be cheated.

The rest of the car ride goes by faster than I hope for, and in just over seven minutes, the house I'd come to forget comes into view. I look out the window, taking in a deep breath.

"It's okay if you don't wanna go inside yet," My mom speaks over my memories of that night fighting to break through the barrier I was forced to keep up by my psychologist, . The benevolence of my mom was starting to irritate me now. I didn't need someone to share some of their compassion with me; I needed to be treated the way I would be before any of this happened.

I shake my head at her offer, "No. I'm good." I give her a quick reassuring smile before opening the door and stepping out. The air here was nice. The blooming flowers in the garden made it just a little more bearable. When I was little, my mom and I used to plant them and water them every day. Seeing them today locks in some optimistic memories.

Once my mom joins me at my side, I nod for my own sake rather than hers before walking up the concrete path between the grass and up the porch steps, waiting at the door for my mom to unlock the door. When she did so, I slowly walk inside and take in both the familiar things and the things I have no recollection of.

"Did you re-decorate?" I ask, examining the entrance.

"Just out here. I got some different colour on the walls, put a canvas up, all the stuff we talked about doing with it."

I smile to myself as my eye catches the flowers in a vase painting I told her to put up in here if she ever got around to doing the place up.

"You didn't change my room?" I turn around to look at her. Out of all the things I imagined coming home to, a new room was definitely at the top of the list.

My mom shrugs, "I contemplated it but I couldn't touch anything in there. Knowing you, you would have just come home and re-do it all anyway." She laughs slightly and in return, I give her a genuine smile. "I gotta go to the hospital real quick. Do you think you'll be okay alone for a bit or do you wanna come with?"

"I'll be okay here," I smile.

She nods and says goodbye before leaving the house.

I look in every direction, pondering where to go. My eyes land on the staircase and my old room pops into my head. I'd always imagined seeing my room again, even if my mom did decorate it, it would still be there.

I smile lightly before walking up the stairs and making my way down the landing. There were only three doors on the second floor of the house so it wasn't hard to find my room's door between the bathroom and my mom's.

The whole situation seems so foreign to me. For whatever reason, I feel the need to knock on my own door, which I have to admit is pretty pathetic, even after all this time. I push those strange thoughts out of my mind and open the door. Before I step inside, I look around for a bit, trying to figure out how many things I could remember were. There were the easy things like my bed, my wardrobe, my desk, and then there were the more small things like my CD collection, my bobby pin jar and my FRIENDS DVD box set. A gentle yet genuine smile creeps up my face. This is home. I'm home. I'm not stuck between four walls any more; I have the space to have a proper bed. I'm not insane. My sanity is definitely still existent.

Just as I take it all in and am about to sit on my bed for the first time in so long, a long and irritating ding sounds around the house, letting me know someone was at the door.

I slowly walk down the stairs and toward the door, hesitant at first to touch the handle. For all I know, the sheriff could be back at my door, ready to take me down with questions with answers either too complicated or non-existent. I contemplate going into the living room and looking through the window, but once I realise my strength has dropped so far that I'm unable to open a door without fear on my back and in my eyes, I straighten my body and reach for the handle. This time, a seemingly impatient knock makes me jump and pull the door with such a force I believe for a moment I'd managed to tear it off its hinges.

"Thank God!" The blonde girl in front of me has her eyes resting on a batch of cookies on an oven tray, her hands covered with floral designed over gloves. She smiles down at the freshly baked raisin and chocolate chip delicacies before her head finally lifts and the smile I would describe as angelic if I were anyone else drooped to cause an unexplainable expression on her face.

"K-Kenna..?" She stumbles both on her words and on her feet, stepping back almost far enough to walk off the porch, her eyes never leaving me. She lowers the tray to the floor, probably in case in her frenzy she managed to ruin them by dropping them into.

A tight knot clogs up my throat. Carrie Bradley. Blonde desire, future baker, sister of one of the victims of the night my life took the worst turn ever.

The shaken surprise on Carrie's face evaporates in seconds and is replaced by anger. Through gritted teeth she begins to yell, pulling off her oven gloves and casting them aside, "Kenna Strider! What on earth do you think gives you the right to come back here after what you did?!" Water forms in her blue eyes as she appears to be resisting the urge to pull my face off.

I open my mouth, not exactly sure what would come out, "Carrie, please. I didn't-"

"Are you really gonna stand there and tell me you didn't murder my brother?" Her right hand rose to her face, covering her mouth and muffling the last of her sentence, several tears falling down her cheeks.

Seeing me probably re-opened healing wounds. Well, of course it did. I am considered the girl who brutally murdered all my friends, one of which was her half-brother, Cole.

Carrie kept stepping back until another woman's voice resonates and causes her to stop and turn around.

"Carrie, what in the name of Christ is taking you so long?" An aged Loretta Bradley walks into the garden, her eyebrows scrunching when she saw the tears streaking down her daughter's face.

Without question she sighs and her eyes flicker to me. She glares and storms her way up the garden until she's just outside the door "Haven't you done enough? Wasn't killing my only son enough for you?"

She shakes her head shamefully before walking back to Carrie's side and wrapping her arm around her shoulder, slowly guiding her out of the property.

I know I'm pale. When in a state of shock, my body loses colour and my words force their way back down. I should have given the both of them a long lecture on why they had no right to walk into my property and say those things to me.

Before the institute, Carrie was a loner. She wore glasses in school and she kept her face hidden behind a book and her blonde curls. I guess you could argue that I was her only real friend, and that was only because she lived with Cole and I'd always go there. Carrie was the one person in the world I expected to at least hear my side of the story before judging. She was like that, never judged someone she didn't know. My best friend was evil to her, but Carrie never bothered speaking with her so she never said a rude word about her.

I close the door after glancing at the discarded cookie batch and rest my back against it, shutting my eyes and thinking about what had just happened. I should expect nothing less from Carrie's awful mother. She doesn't care enough about Cole, just his dad. I think she just despises me and uses Cole's death as a reason to smile. She sees it as finally the whole town hates me, and she just loves seeing that. I bet she was counting down the days until my return, purposely not telling her daughter so she gained some fun from it.

It seems that being back here four years later is going to be worse than being in court two weeks later.


	2. 2 Broken Barrier

**Chapter Two **

_**Broken Barrier**_

I hold another earring against my ear, hoping to finally be satisfied but to no avail. After groaning at my ears' failure to look good with any earrings I own, I move all the pairs from my mattress to my dresser and pull my hair over my bare ears. No point in trying any more, I already raided my mom's jewellery box and asked my friends for their support to drive to my house just to give me a pair of studs I probably won't even wear anyway.

Straightening out my jacket, I do a mental overview of myself. Jeans: good, boots: kick-ass, shirt: pretty, jacket: works. I'm not the best at accessorizing, but I really gotta hand it to myself, I managed to make a necklace and rings go together. I never exactly know what really looks perfect. Like; what I'm wearing may look good enough for me, but to someone else it could be a fashion abomination.

"Kenna," My mom's yelling yet somehow still quiet tone of voice overlaps my thoughts, making me nod at myself with approval and walk out.

I meet my mom in the middle of the entrance of our house. She looks me up and down before sighing, "I hate to be tough mom here but I gotta make rules for tonight."

"Understandable." I nod.

"So, your first date…" She hesitates for a moment, squinting at me, "No trouble. I want you home by ten thirty. Considering it is your first date, no… inappropriate touching."

My eyes widen, "Mom!"

"Kenna you are my daughter. My thirteen year old daughter who's not ready for the use of a condom,"

"I'm not planning to-" I try to stop her before she has the talk with me before I've actually fully processed what exactly _that_ is.

She raises her hand to stop me, "I know you're only thirteen and you probably don't even know what that is, but I'm just trying to tell you to be careful." She releases a breath and sends a small smile my way.

After returning a familiar smile, I touch her left shoulder and speak with reassurance lining my words, "I will be careful. I know you have a thing about me going out at dark but we're just going to Brianna's house for a bit, I won't even be gone long enough for you to miss me."

My mom accepts this and nods before smiling devilishly, "So… Cole."

"Don't start." I stop her before she starts off on her mocking trail. Everyone, even my very oblivious mother knows about the world sized crush I have on Cole Bradley, son of Miranda Laurent and Clarke Bradley, fourteen year old god. He is truly something. I didn't even ask him to go out tonight; I had to get my best friend to do it for me, which is pretty lame. "I have to go." I make my way to the door, making sure to turn back and wave goodbye to my mom before I close it.

Nerves dance around in my stomach as I check my phone, sighing as I read the digits displayed at the top of my screen. After shutting it off, I nudge Brianna and use my thumb to signal I was going to head home.

Brianna laughs lightly, "No way, Ken." She walks behind me and pushes me in the direction of all the others. I stop walking and turn around to face her.

"Brianna, I can't," I let the seriousness stand out in my voice.

"Kenna, lighten up! It's only ten thirty!" She walks around me with her arms crossed, a playful grin playing on her face.

My eyes widen. I was supposed to be home already. I was already in so much trouble; I didn't need to be creeping around the preserve only for it to end up adding to my mom's anger.

I shake my head, getting ready to just turn around and walk away without passing another word to her, but Brianna speaks up once again, this time saying something that actually made sense. "Besides, would you really just leave Cole mid-date?"

I roll my eyes, "This isn't a date, it's a bunch of friends hanging out," I scoff.

"You will regret not coming, you know. If you leave that gives Lola every chance with Cole." Although I hadn't yet agreed to Brianna's offer, the look on her face was easy to read. It was so easy for her to know when she was successful or – on the rare occasion – not. I nod lightly and she jumps up once, grinning like a child as she grabs my hand and runs into the woods after everyone else.

Once we catch up to them, the boys - Cole and his friends Dylan and Zach - try to figure out how to light a fire, eventually gaining knowledge from Lola on how do it with nature and a small flame goes up. Dylan claps for himself and stands up, walking towards the duffel bag he took from Brianna's house and carrying it over to the fire. I'm pretty sure I was the only one here completely unaware that we weren't just going to watch dumb movies in Brianna's house for three hours. I probably shouldn't have agreed to go with them but I guess with all the pressure my friends put on me, it didn't take me lone to succumb to it. To be honest, out of all the places in Beacon Hills, an eerie forest with insects crawling around the leaves in the freezing cold was not the preferred place to visit tonight.

While everyone else goes to sit on the logs around the fire, I stay standing, trying to get a text through to my mom but something keeps going wrong. I groan and put my phone back in my pocket, sitting down exactly where I was instead of with the group. It was really bad of me, but I really wasn't the biggest fan of them any more – except Cole because he's Cole for crying out loud. But Dylan, Zach and Lola aren't such great people, and from what I can tell, their personality seems to have rubbed off onto Brianna so now she and Lola are joined to the hip and I'm just sort of… there. There isn't much point in my presence here, or my existence for that matter. No one appears to have acknowledged the fact that I'm even with them and if I just left they probably wouldn't notice. But I can't, because that's just rude.

I lay back on the leaves, not worrying about the bugs as I count the stars in the dark winter sky. Once I got to eleven stars – four noticeable by anyone and seven you had to be concentrating to see – the space to my left was taken up, "I got nine, how about you?"

I turn my head, smiling at the thought of seeing more stars than Cole did. "Eleven." I answer, re-adjusting myself so my body was at its full extension. Cole laughs and puts one of his hands behind his head.

"That's not fair, you've got great vision," He complains as he looks at the sky again, "Got the tenth… Where's the eleventh?"

Figuring he couldn't find the most complicated star up there, I move closer to him and point to the biggest one, "You see the tiny thing right next to the big one?"

Cole exhales, "Wow, that's a star? I am such a moron." He looks at me with a smile.

"Very true," I nod and laugh. In response Cole playfully hits me and laughs along with me.

"So this group date thing…" Cole starts.

"Is incredibly boring and stupid?" I finish his sentence off for him.

Cole chuckles and nods, "When Brianna mentioned you and I being together I guess I just assumed it would just be us on a date."

I smile most likely wider than initially intended, picking up the hint, "And you said yes."

"I did."

His body closes the space left between us and he uses the hand that wasn't currently holding his body weight to push a piece of my hair I swear didn't even drop down onto my face away, probably all for the sake of being cliché and filling out my long waited dream of feeling like I was in a movie. His hand stayed at the back of my neck and he slowly moved his face closer and closer. I try to keep down the excitement I have for this moment, but before I even get to breathe in the aftershave from his neck, several screams make me jump and get back onto my feet, along with Cole.

I frantically look all around. "Where did they go?" I ask, not really a question to be answered but is the only thing that popped into my head. From the space around the fire, the only thing remaining is the blue duffel bag now opened and revealing several bottles of alcohol. Trust Dylan to be a drinker.

Cole starts to walk but stops when another's feet start quickly running in a circle around us. I turn around with every crunch of a hard leaf at the touch of someone's foot squashing it but see nothing but a dark blurry figure, only existing in the same position for a few milliseconds before running off once again.

"Kenna, run," Cole whispers sternly, also trying to catch a glimpse at whatever that was.

I give him a look of both shock and terror, "No! I'm not gonna leave you!" I don't even bother whispering. The thought of leaving him behind when everyone has gone missing and someone is currently circling us was ridiculous. Not just because he's the guy I like, but I wouldn't just leave anyone – even including Zach, the worst of the worst.

"When you're far enough away, call the police." Cole doesn't even look at me, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

I was still hesitant to move any part of my body, put when the running cuts and an alarming grunt sounds, I decide to trust his not-so-well thought out plan and run down the route behind me as it's the only one I'm sure I won't be found.

When I'm only far enough to put a metre stick at my feet to reach the opening, a thud makes me spin back around to see my phone on the ground. I roll my eyes at how frightened I got and pick it up, turning it on quickly to make sure it hadn't been damaged when it hit the ground. As I'm about to run again, another long-lasting scream hits my ears. My head snaps up to where I once stood, seeing now that the scream belonged to Cole. My eyes widen and my body goes numb as I watch what I would call a wolf on its hind legs tackle Cole to the ground and lower its head to his neck. I jump behind a tree and soon enough, the screaming stops. The worst of possibilities has happened, and I just stood there.

The mind-numbing silence goes on for too long, and I give in to my need to peer to the clearing. I look down, the only thing making it possible for me to see anything being the quickly dying fire. The creature rises to its feet with a loud howl, its arms lifting to the air as the ears go down, the skin turns to colour and the standing out red eyes disappear. My breathing quickens and the sounds of terror as I exhale are enough to attract… whatever the predator was. I cover my mouth and return to the spot behind to tree, closing my eyes and wishing on all eleven stars that I'll get out of this.

After a long amount of time goes by without a noise excluding my breathing and silent whispers for safety, I let my eyes part one by one and look around. The fire had disappeared to ashes by now, and fortunately I couldn't see whatever remained of Cole. It seems awful just thinking about how I could have been in the same position.

I allow myself to believe that I was actually okay, and start walking. I stumble a lot as I try to make my way out of the woods on my own, only hearing the howling and grunting reciting in my head. I don't like crying but obviously my refusal to do so was beat out by the death of possibly all my friends.

_All of my friends, _the thought finally races through my head, hitting me so hard that I have to hold on to the branch of a tree for support. "All of my friends are dead…" I whisper to myself as I kneel down.

What are you supposed to do when you witness your friends dying? Do you call the police? Should I go home to my mom and tell her first? It didn't even matter what I did. The point was all of my friends are dead. I let the thought sink. I am now in a state of shock, unsure of how to completely process the situation or what to do about it. Without thinking, I grab my phone from my pocket and dial 911, only to find myself ending the call immediately.

Confused by my own actions, I stand up, the audible breathing returning as liquid falls from my eyes. I don't even bother wiping the tears away, instead I run in the same direction until I find myself in a street a couple blocks from mine.

I stare at my front door for a few minutes, going over what I'd say when my mom started yelling at me for being late, but what would I even say? I exhale and open the door walking inside and slamming the door, just to be sure she heard me.

I hear the soles of my mom's slippers dust along the floorboards and my mother shows up in front of me with a look of fury, "Where the hell have you been, Kenna? What happened to ten thirty?" She speaks with a voice that matched her expression.

"They're dead," I say in a low voice, probably impossible to hear.

"What?" She asks sternly.

I raise my head and look in straight in the eyes, "Brianna, Cole, Zach, Dylan and Lola are dead." I silently gasp. Hearing the words in my own voice was different than them being in my head.

My mom's face goes pale and she loses all expression, "Kenna, if this is some kind of joke-"

"It's not!" I yell, "My friends are dead and whatever did it wasn't human."

Not human. I go over my choice of words. Not human wasn't the first thing that comes to mind when I allow myself to see that thing again. I don't know how I would manage to say it out loud but I know what I saw.

I saw a werewolf.


	3. 3 Official Return

**I want to thank anyone who even read this**

**It makes me really happy when I see I have a new follower, favourite or review**

**I think after this chapter it will go to third person because it's the only way this story will work**

**ALSO if you haven't give a listen to Fear and Loathing – Marina and the Diamonds because that song fits this story to a T.**

**Chapter 3**

_**Official Return**_

The trees shake in the wind and release many auburn leaves as my mom's car slowly moves around the parking lot. She curses under her breath when she barely fits into the tiny space that was left but stops the car looking defeated. After struggling to get out of the car, we both make our way to the building. I try to avoid the obvious stare of other students as I run up the steps just outside the door and enter the school, finally allowing my head to raise and stare back at the people exchanging glances and whispering as they continue to eye me suspiciously. They weren't furious like the news reporters and other citizens were; instead they silenced themselves as if they didn't want to be heard by a single soul around them. Teenagers had always been worse than adults and even young children to me, but I guess I had hoped that they may have the decency to take their anger or honest thoughts out on me. But instead they jump at the sight of me and cover their lips as they speak quietly into their friends' ears. Despite that, it still brought some sense of relief to know I was and would be around people my age for some time, it didn't matter that they thought I was a monstrous murderer, in a small part of deep down.

Without warning, I'm pushed to the side and am suddenly being walked all the way down the hall by my obsessive mother. "Forget about them," The anger in her voice comes out. I sigh and pull my body from grasp, making her slow down once we are outside the doors of the school office. She had to have some kind of tour around here before I arrived because she didn't once look up at the lack of signs with arrows telling everyone where to go.

"Mom, it is fine," I lie, "It's not like I expected them to like me." It was, though, a pretty awful feeling in my chest, in the bottom of my stomach. It's the type of thing that makes my legs go numb enough so I'm not really sure they are there any more. It makes me feel so upset that I could cry and so annoyed that I could hit someone. But if anyone would get more annoyed at it than I was, it was my mom. She's always been protective of me, just like any other mother.

My mom nods but still gives off a vibe of anger as she pushes the door and walks in. The office is just like how I imagined it to be – big closed off desk in the centre, multiple computers and files occupying the space on it, seats filled by students holding bags of ice to their bodies as they waited to go home and of course, a bored looking woman spinning in a chair just waiting for the opportunity to be helpful.

I glance at the seats to see two injured students with sports gear that looks extremely uncomfortable and a dark haired guy that looks green enough to collapse. I guess they were too pre-occupied at the moment to acknowledge the insane new girl walking through. I manage to smile a little before stepping to my mom's side.

Papers are spread out in front of her and she scribbles her signature down at the speed of the hare before handing me the pen. "Sign every page on the second line at the bottom." The woman behind the desk speaks with no emotion and starts doodling on sticky-notes, probably trying to act as if she was doing something important.

I feel a pit in my stomach as my eyes drool over the perfection of my mom's signature, trying to think of what to do. I never really stuck to a signature because it never came up for anything other than collecting packages when I was home alone, and I guess I never really thought to practise.

Rolling my lower lip inside my mouth, I simply write my full name in handwriting on every line and look up, expecting more.

"What now?" I ask a question for anyone to answer, really.

"Here's your schedule," The lady hands me a sheet with multiple class names and teachers written on it, "Have fun. Try not to drag too much attention to yourself." She winks knowingly. How was it that I somehow believed that maybe someone didn't know who I was? Dumb thought because of course, she knew exactly who I was; she didn't even need my name for it.

I keep my eyes on the page as my mom and I walk out of the office. She stops me at the door and smiles purely, "Are you sure you're ready for this? I can still take you home and get an arrangement sorted out."

"No," I shake my head, "The faster things go back to normal, the better."

She nods once and waves goodbye before walking out of the building.

"Liar," I whisper, directed at myself. Honestly, what the chance I have of getting things back to normal is one in a million, and judging by the hateful stares I'm getting from the students around me, my chances could be ever lower than that. I thought things were bad before, the sight of smudged nail polish made me feel like the world was ending. Never before has I even imagined things could get so bad.

After forcing my throat to clear, I stare at my new schedule, eyeing the new classes and the period times. Seven periods, each lasting an hour, the first one beginning at 9AM. I glance down to my watch and sigh when I read that already I'm five minutes late. Hopefully my Physics teacher will understand with me being new and all.

As I make my ways around the halls, desperately searching for a door with Physics written on a plaque, I avoid making any form of contact at all with anybody. I reach the top stair on the last staircase I could see I peer down the hall to see an empty corridor, the only thing making the dull hall even slightly bright being the painting at the very end of a lighthouse during a storm.

I look around me in hopes of seeing someone else who was over ten minutes last to their first ever high school class, but the last door had closed a while ago and the entire floor was as a dead silence. Exhaling deeply, I walk down the hall quickly and to the right so I was near the doors. The first three were Biology then came my destination. I guess I had hope the teacher wouldn't be there but the tall dark haired woman was standing proudly, talking to the class.

Drawing in a breath, I push the door open and watch as everyone stops what they're doing to look at the late girl. After thinking, I hesitantly walk forward until I'm standing directly in front of the class. I take a peek at the schedule given to me to read the name – . I turn my head once I hear obvious whispering return. There it was again. The feeling that both rose my temper and made me curl up into a ball on the inside.

"You are?" walks a few steps, crossing her arms are lifting her chin slightly.

I look back at her and cough, "Kenna. Strider." I pause, "Kenna Strider." A subtle gasp sounds in the classroom, probably of the people who only know my name and not the face that goes with it.

nods and drops her arms to her side, the realisation also hitting her, "Well, Kenna Strider, it's not very smart of you to be late on your first day. You've missed school education for four years; you have a lot to catch up on."

I slowly nod. The only learning I did while in the institution was by my therapist, every subject had to be learned in the space of eight hours for two days a week.

"You should know there's no chance of bad behaviour in my class. You're in alphabetical order, depending on your surname so go find your name on the register." points to the page pinned on the border of the chalkboard behind her before going back to her lesson. I walk towards the sheet, using my finger to guide my eyes down the names until I find _Strider, Kenna _and above it _Stilinski, Stiles._

Although I didn't know who it was, I was already frightened of so instead I turn around and try to look for Stiles by imagining what somebody with the second name of Stilinski and the first of Stiles would look like. Nerves took over me as I searched for someone with green eyes and light brown hair until a hand raises and waves at me, a smile growing on the boy's face when I see him. I make my way to the back row and sit in the seat next to him.

"Hi," He smiles at me, "I'm Stiles." My eyebrows lower as I try to figure out why he'd actually be talking to me instead of staring and whispering like most people in the room.

I clear my throat, "Your name is… Stiles?"

"Not my real name but I made sure that was the one that went up on the board." He sighs and re-positions himself so he is watching again.

I mentally punch myself. Already I've managed to turn away the only person who may actually be willing to have a conversation with me.

The whole class is filled with things I already knew about, so I took the hour to let my mind wander. The people around me had stopped making fun by the time the class was half-over, but by the time the bell rang, I could hear my name being spoken many more times that I want to say.

As I'm about to leave, stops me. "Have you signed up for extra credit?"

"I don't really need it," I have trouble with my words but eventually get it, "I was taught what you're teaching when I was fifteen."

A smile emerges on her face, "That's good. You'll be sitting an exam on Thursday on everything we've learned so far this year."

My face drops. All I'm really sure I know is the stuff she was teaching today, but what if she talked about something I had not gone over or learned well enough is on this exam?

"But don't worry," She shook her head, "You learned it all when you were fifteen anyway."

* * *

As soon as Stiles steps into the cafeteria for lunch, Scott jumps in front of him, immediately looking at him as if he were insane. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Stiles recovers from his state of shock with a look of confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Talking to a mass murderer?" Scott gives him a look to let him know how serious he was being.

Stiles clicks his tongue and bobs his head, "That…"

"Yeah, that. Stiles she killed five innocent people." Scott still didn't like saying it. The whole thought of murder made him shake.

"I know but, she didn't." Stiles begins to try to explain.

Scott immediately interrupts him, "Yeah, she did."

"No, she didn't."

"Are you serious?" Scott glares at Stiles, not sure whether or not his friend was joking.

"Very. Look if this was us talking three years ago, I'd agree with you, but since we're not and we've got all jumbled up in the supernatural beings stuff, I have to strongly disagree."

Scott looks at him with wide eyes, shaking his head in disbelief, "Stiles," He speaks slowly and clearly, "Kenna Strider is a cold-blooded murderer. She tore up her five best friends and now she's been released for whatever reason." He finishes by stomping his foot on the ground once.

Stiles tenses up at how stupid his friend was being and clutches his hands so Scott knows he's getting annoyed at him, "Oh my God, you are such an idiot! I can't believe you aren't catching on to this!"

Scott eyes his friend with a confused expression. "Haven't you read a newspaper article? Watched the news? Even been alive, Scott, have you been alive?" Stiles questions, not fully understanding how oblivious someone has to be to not catch on to what he's basically throwing in front of his face.

"Where's this going?" Scott's look of disbelief slowly fades and he crosses arms as he waits for Stiles to explain why he felt the need to make him feel stupid.

Stiles breathes in and makes himself calm before going further, "The cold-blooded murderer swears she saw a werewolf tear up her friends."

Scott's lips part as if he was about to say something but there were so many things to say that he just couldn't do anything but think. "Werewolf?" He repeats, still unsure.

"Yes, Scott, werewolf." Stiles nods.

"She said a werewolf attacked her friends?"

Stiles shrugs, "Mutilated, actually." When nothing else comes out of Scott, he sighs and pulls his bag forward, unzipping from the top and pulling out a file. "This is all the police station had on the case." He informs a still shaken Scott and opens the file.

Clearing his throat, Stiles begins to read, "One second they were all laughing around the fire and the next the whole four of them were just gone. Cole and I were the only ones there to hear that thing running around us at the speed of lightning. He told me to run, so that's what I did. I didn't want to but if I could call the police and get help, I wasn't gonna just stand there and wait to get taken. But then I stopped, and turned around and I saw it. The venom dripping from the fangs, the blood-red eyes, I saw it and I froze. That's when it turned back to human. It was a werewolf. I swear to God, I didn't do it."

"That was her statement?" Scott had finally looked up, and was now reading on over Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles nods and turns the page to a newspaper article. "This is the last article that was released on this case," He explains, "but it wasn't the last written."

"Didn't the murders stop when Kenna was put into custody?"

"They did, for a month. Then they started happening again all around the preserve. Every single one the same: only one witness left behind. My guess is whoever did it had to leave time to figure out who to go after next because before, the witnesses were killed along with five others before they had the time to tell anyone, but since Kenna told the police straight away, it was decided it was an act so she wouldn't get accused because they kept her in custody for a while and all the killings just stopped." Stiles flips up the article to reveal another one with the next group of murdered people written about.

Scott lets out a breath that had been caught in his throat, "But if the murders didn't actually stop then why was Kenna put into an asylum?"

"I don't actually know… But this is enough, right? To prove her innocence?" Stiles closes the file and puts it back in his bag, feeling satisfied that he'd be able to convince an entire jury of Kenna's false admission to the institute. But Scott stands back in front of him, shaking his head.

"No," He disagrees, making Stiles groan, "There's still the possibility that she did do it, right?"

Stiles scrunches his face up, irritated that he was still being doubted. "I guess. But we'll never know unless we get to know her." Stiles smiles and makes his way to the table he and Scott's friends were sitting.

* * *

**Okay so a quick recap in case I confused you:**

**Stiles researches Kenna's case (because he's a Stiles) and finds evidence that could be used to prove her innocence so he tells Scott who doesn't believe him until he whips out a stolen police file. You also find out that Kenna lived through the attack because the werewolf that killed her friends had a pattern of leaving one witness and killing them in the next set of victims. But because she was put into the institute and surrounded by walls for four years, he could never kill her so he just continued what he was doing. BUT the news of the murders going on was never announced to the public, so Kenna got the blame for it.**

**I know this is moving too fast but I really just can't slow it down because if I did, this whole chapter would be filled with Kenna's first day in school and I don't want to bore you by repeating about how hard it was for her seven times.**


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